


107 Degrees Farenheit

by kforsyth716



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 21:39:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14458308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kforsyth716/pseuds/kforsyth716
Summary: IW PART I SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!!Peter's back. But it's not the same as before.





	107 Degrees Farenheit

“Boss, Peter is awake.”  
Friday is an AI and therefore, doesn’t feel emotions like worry.  
So, it had to be Tony’s imagination that made him think she sounded worried. Or maybe it was his worry that made her sound worried and therefore, launched him out of bed and down the hallway.  
Steve, with his superhuman speed and living next door to Peter, was already waiting for Tony outside of Peter’s door when Tony arrived.  
“How is he?” Tony said, moving to open the door and pausing when the knob refused to give under his hand.  
“That’s how he is.” Steve said with a sigh.  
“Friday, scan Peter. Look for the usual stuff.” Tony said, eyeing the door and wondering if he would have to blast it to get to Peter. He couldn’t hear anything from the bedroom, but that didn’t mean much.  
“Has he said anything to you?” Tony said said to Steve, who shook his head.  
“Friday woke me up.” He said and Tony nodded, running his fingers through his hair and forcing his legs to stay still. Pacing would work up his own anxiety, which would worsen Peter’s, and Tony had to wait to freak out, had to set it aside, had to shove it away so he could help-.  
“This needs to stop, Tony.” Steve said.  
Tony raised an eyebrow at him.  
“The kid was dead two months ago, Steve.” He said. “You don’t just bounce-.”  
“I know, I’m sorry.” Steve said, hands up. “But he needs to talk about it or else it won’t get better.”  
Tony sighed and rubbed his face.  
“He’s sixteen.” He said. “He’s sixteen and he died, along with half the universe, and you think talking is going to help?”  
“It’s worth a shot.” Steve said. “You can’t think nightly-.”  
“I think,” Tony cut in. “We need to get this door open, get to the kid, and deal with the rest of this later.”  
Fortunately, Steve nodded just in time for Friday to speak, again, sounding worried.  
Or Tony’s imagination was wrecking havoc on him.  
“Boss, Peter’s heart rate and temperature are significantly elevated.”  
“Shit.” Tony muttered. “Can you tell what he did to block the door?”  
“No, boss. He used his spider-webbing to block the camera, but not the other sensors.”  
“Shit.” Steve said.  
“Language.” Tony said on instinct and then winced. “Sorry. Bad timing.”  
Steve rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face was forced. Tony knocked on Peter’s door as softly as he could.  
“Hey, Underoos.” He said. “It’s Tony. Can you hear me?”  
Nothing.  
Tony knocked again, forcing himself to keep the movement light and even.  
“Pete, I need you to open the door. Steve is getting worried about you out here.” He said. “I know you’re fine, but the dinosaur is paranoid.”  
Still nothing.  
Tony sighed and turned to Steve.  
“Your turn or mine, dinosaur?” He said.  
Steve rolled his eyes, took a step back, and then kicked the door down.  
The ensuing scream made Tony’s heart shudder, but he forced himself to stride into the darkened room, now full of light from the hallway.  
“Peter?” He said, scanning the room and frowning when he couldn’t find the kid in any of the corners, on the ground or otherwise. He checked the bathroom and found nothing out of place.  
“Friday, are you sure he’s in here?” He said.  
“In the closet, boss.”  
Tony dropped his head.  
Of course. Tony was getting slow.  
The closet door, thankfully, opened on the first try and Tony’s shoulders relaxed when he spotted Peter, clinging to the corner on the ceiling, hanging upside down so his long hair dangled beneath his head, bare feet and fingers pressed against the ceiling so they were white.  
But the kid was there, breathing, and not blowing away in the wind on Titan.  
He stared at Tony with glossy eyes, shaking and sweating.  
“Pete, it’s Tony. Can you hear me?”  
The kid didn’t respond and Tony sighed.  
“Kid, you’re going to give Steve a heart attack if you don’t give some sign you can-PETER!”  
Steve thundered in behind Tony, who hadn’t moved fast enough to catch Peter when his eyes slid shut and his whole body went limp, so the kid hit the floor with a ‘thump’, like he did on Titan just before disintegrating into ash. Tony dropped to his knees next to Peter, patting his cheek as gently as he could to wake him up.  
“Pete, Pete, c’mon, kid. Wake up. Just wake up for a second.” Tony said.  
Steve swore behind him and then disappeared, hopefully to find Bruce or a doctor or someone with more degrees and more brain power than Tony, who had a lot of degrees but not a whole lot of brain power at the moment. Not when his kid was lying, unconscious, on the ground.  
“Friday, what’s his bp and temperature?”  
“Heart rate is 150 bpm and temperature is 101 degrees Fahrenheit.”  
Shit.  
“Peter, can you hear me?” Tony said, hating the way his voice cracked. “Kid, don’t do this to me, please.”  
And, of course, the moment Tony Stark used his manners, the little shit had the audacity to jerk his eyes open and gasp for air, curling away from Tony and coughing, spluttering.  
“Thank god.” Tony muttered, reaching out a hand to grab Peter’s shoulder while he heaved for air. “You’re okay, kid. You’re at the compound, remember? You’re safe, the team is safe-.”  
“No, no, nonono.” Peter said, now trembling under Tony’s hand. “No, somethin’s wrong, Mr. Stark, somethin’s wrong, I don’t… Please… I don’t… I don’t feel so good…”  
Tony hated those words more than anything.  
Maybe not more than Thanos.  
But more than 99.9% of the universe.  
And he hated them more every time he heard them exit Peter’s lips, usually in a frantic, tumbling leap that sent Tony’s head spinning.  
He forced himself to take a deep breath, tightening his arm on Peter’s shoulder.  
“You’re alright, Pete. Deep breaths, okay? You’re fine.” He said.  
“Boss, his temperature is climbing. It’s at 104 degrees Fahrenheit.”  
Shit, shit, shit. Where the fuck was Bruce?  
“Mr. Stark…” Peter moaned. “I can’t… hurts…”  
“What hurts, Peter?” Tony said.  
“Hurts real bad…” Peter said, pressing his face into the carpet. “Head and… Chest.”  
Fuck.  
“STEVE, HURRY UP!” Tony yelled over his shoulder before turning back to Peter. “Hey, you’ll be okay, kid. Just hang in there and work on breathing.”  
Peter didn’t respond, just kept his eyes shut and face scrunched in pain. Tony almost shouted for Steve again, when footsteps echoed in the hallway and then Bruce was there, stepping around Tony and checking Peter’s temperature with his hand, asking Friday questions she answered in the same worried voice, and asking Peter questions the kid ignored or didn’t hear.  
Once Friday reported Peter had a temperature of a 107, Tony’s memory faded to the feeling of Peter’s hot skin under his fingers as he helped carried him into the bathroom and then hold him up so he didn’t drown in the tub of cold water meant to force his temperature down. At some point, Peter started shivering and they had to lift him back out of the tub and strip off his wet clothes, get him into dry ones, and then set him down on his bed. By that point, most of the compound was awake, either because Friday woke them up or Tony’s yelling or something, but he could hear them waiting in the hallway.  
“Boss, Peter’s temperature is 100 degrees Fahrenheit.” Friday said. “You may want to go get some sleep before-.”  
“Shut up, Friday.” Tony said, tightening his grip on Peter’s limp hand.  
“Tony, he’s going to be fine.” Bruce said. “That’s a low grade fever that will probably disappear in an hour or so.”  
Tony shook his head.  
“And what about next time? What about tonight?” He said. “This keeps happening and there’s nothing I can do about it and I can’t keep sitting here, watching him almost die at night and then try and pretend everything’s fine the next day and then… and then… He’s just going to fade away again.”  
It wasn’t Bruce who responded, but Steve, who had been watching from the bathroom doorway.  
“Not if we don’t let him.” He said. “I don’t much about whatever this is, but I know it’s not like before.”  
“Steve, it’s exactly like-.”  
“He’s here, Tony.” Steve interrupted and stalked across the room so he could point at Peter, still unconscious. “He’s here and he’s breathing and we can work with that. We can fight that.”  
Tony couldn’t help it.  
He forced a small grin.  
“Aye aye, captain.” He said.


End file.
